TNT: Haunted by the Fangs

The reddish sand under her paws was scorching hot, but the black air around her was cold like death. At night, the desert became a chill abyss, the shapeless earth obscured by the thick layer of darkness that swallowed the last of the sun's rays. Normally, the moon and stars shone brightly over the rocky plateaus and canyons that CanyonClan was named for, but not a single one of them showed themselves tonight, the sky ominously empty. The stars were not watching over her tonight.

Fear made her skin crawl, her fur prickling as she turned in a slow circle, trying to get her bearings, but she could see nothing. Her breath rushed out of her lungs, chest aching in the cold as her paws still burned, sending sweats up and down her legs as though her body didn't know how to respond to the conflicting sensations of hot and cold. She didn't know weather to shiver or pant, but she was feeling sick, her own fear scent threatening to choke her.

A snarl, somewhere in the darkness. The sound traveled through the air, echoing against the rocky walls of the canyons, and she felt the fur along her spine stand upright.

Whipping her head back and forth, she searched desperately for any sign of danger, her tail puffing out. Her claws scraped against the sand as she turned in circles, her breath coming faster, eyes darting around and ears swiveling.

Silence.

Then, another snarl, this time closer, sounding like it was just behind her.

She spun around, gasping as a rush of hot, rancid breath blasted in her face. Droplets of spittle spattered against her face, a tongue lolling out of a large, narrow maw lined with rows of sharp white teeth. Those teeth were all she could see in the darkness, the rest of the beast's body just a shadow, a silhouette against the night. It was easily four times her size, long legs holding its wiry, starved body above the sand, pointed ears standing straight up on its head, tail held erect. It found its prey.

Unable to even cry out, her breath now frozen in her chest, she leaped back. Her heart started beating so fast she thought it would shatter its cage of bones and break right out of her chest. It's here. It's back.

The beast took one step towards her, jaws hanging open as threads of saliva dripped from it, but then it stopped when a soft sound drifted over from the west. It turned, and she did, too, looking to see who was there.

She expected a small, young cat, but it wasn't the same one who always haunted her before. No, this cat was even smaller, with the short legs and tail that gave away that they were fresh out of the nursery. Dark tabby fur, soft green eyes, and small white paws... though, her round, young face was not cheeky with a smile, but flat and stiff with terror.

"Marshpaw!" She shrieked, calling out to the little apprentice as the beast rounded on her. Smaller, easier prey. A warrior could fight back, but such a young kit would be torn apart and devoured.

Marshpaw screamed as the monster lunged at her, her tail slipping between her legs as she hunkered against the sand.

"NO!" Desperation overrode her self-preservation instinct, and before she could comprehend what she was doing, she was rushing towards the starving beast, leaping through the air and slamming into its side. She felt her claws dig into mangy fur, and the beast staggered sideways at the sudden impact of her weight.

Hanging on for dear life, she clawed at the beast with her hind legs, the scent of blood now filling the air. It sizzled as it struck the scalding hot sand beneath them, still burning as though it was sunhigh.

The beast howled in pain, then twisted around, its slavering jaws coming close to her head. She felt its breath on her cheek, teeth glinting mere mouse-lengths from her nose, and she let go with one foreleg to lash out at it, trying to slash the monster's eyes, ears, nose; whatever vulnerable, soft tissue she could dig her claws into and rip apart.

With a wavering, hysterical sound, the beast clamped its jaws shut over her foreleg, teeth digging in deep. Blood gushed from her wounds, staining her white fur with bright crimson red. Pain exploded up her leg, a scream tearing out of her throat, and she continued screaming as the beast tore her off of its side, her claws coming away with tufts of fur caught in them.

For a moment, she dangled there by her leg, but then the world began to spin and blur around her; the beast violently shook its head back and forth, rattling her brain in her skull. The pain in her leg intensified as the muscle and skin tore away, the bones bruising, and then she heard a popping noise as her shoulder was yanked out of its joint, and still the thrashing continued, no matter how much it hurt, no matter how much she wailed, or how likely it seemed that her leg would just be torn right off and she would drop onto the burning sand beneath them. It would be a relief, she thought, to fall onto that sand, to bleed out and burn until she died, so it would just be over!

Finally, there came the tearing sound, and she felt blood spatter against her face, blinding her, choking her... she was falling, falling to the ground, her body numb as she finally hit the sand...

"Li... wi...!"

A distant voice called out to her as she felt her body begin to burn. She could hear Marshpaw crying out, but she couldn't bring herself to stand, having no control of her own limbs anymore.

"Lightwing!"

"Lightwing! Wake up!"

With a gasp, the pale-furred warrior jolted awake, her eyes snapping open to see not the ravenous jaws of a coyote, but the concerned face of one of her clanmates.

"Lightwing..." Leopardfire gazed down at her with worry in her bold green eyes, which seemed to glow in the darkness. It was still the middle of the night. "You were thrashing and whimpering in your sleep. Are you feeling alright?"

"I... I'm fine..." Lightwing replied, quickly forcing herself to her paws. She cringed as she felt her bad shoulder ache, the pain always seeming so much worse after a nightmare such as the one she had just woken from. Ashamed to have been woken by a much younger warrior, she turned away and mumbled, "I apologize for the disturbance. Please, go back to sleep."

"W-wait...!" Leopardfire tried to protest, but Lightwing was already leaving the den, her uneven paw steps sounding softly against the stone.

Lightwing shivered as she emerged into the cool night air, and instinctively looked up at the sky. Instead of a sea of black, she was met with the glittering of thousands of stars that colored the sky with streaks of blue, violet, and silver, surrounding the glowing white moon, which was about three-quarters full. She was not alone this night, she was never alone. She had to remember that.

She shook her head a little and padded across the rocky outcrop the warriors' den was situated on, then climbed down the wall of stone, reaching the bottom of the small canyon that made up the camp. The sickly sweet scent of the wildflowers growing in and around the camp just made her feel nauseous, and she decided to trot over to the small stream trickling out from between the rocks, forming a tiny spring at the far end of camp. Perhaps a drink would help soothe her nerves and her stomach...

Sitting down beside the water, Lightwing ducked her head and lapped at the cold water, tasting just faintly of the earth as it ran through countless layers of rock and sediment. Droplets of it clung to her whiskers as she sat upright again, closing her eyes with a sigh.

Why must I still be afraid? She asked herself, searching her heart for answers. I say time and time again that I do not regret protecting my apprentice back then, and that still holds true. I did what any warrior would do. I do not want or need anyone's pity, so why do I feel like a timid kit every time my memories visit me at night?

She sighed, her ears falling. I don't fear being attacked. I fear my apprentice being attacked, and being forced to watch helplessly just like Hollypaw did back then... watching as I was nearly torn apart... I am afraid of failing her. Of being just a helpless sack of fur in that beast's maw, a useless warrior who can't even protect her own apprentice!

Her claws sank into the sand, which felt only a little warm beneath her paw pads, not scalding hot like in her dream. This was the real world, where memories could not hurt her. Or, so she liked to think.

"Lightwing," a new voice spoke up, not belonging to Leopardfire. It was not soft, or questioning, nor was it female.

Turning to look over her shoulder, Lightwing saw none other than the Clan's deputy standing behind her, his single amber eye gazing into her blue-green ones. He had a solemn expression on his face.

Bowing her head, Lightwing murmured, "I'm sorry if I woke you as well, Rowanwolf. I assure you, I am not ill."

"I am aware," he replied, padding closer to sit by the water as well. He looked down at his mangled reflection, the right side of his face as devoid of fur as the desert was devoid of trees, the skin a reddish-grey color. His own scars, ones that stole one of his eyes from him.

Her ears flattening, Lightwing looked away, gazing down at her own reflection again as well. How was it that she looked so much less broken than he, but felt exactly the opposite? He did not wake his Clanmates in the middle of the night, kicking and wailing in his sleep. "I... apologize, nonetheless."

They were silent for a moment, before she heard Rowanwolf let out a long sigh. He then asked quietly, "Should I have given Marshpaw a different mentor? I understand, if you are not ready."

"What?" Lightwing lifted her head, fixing her eyes on him. He was looking at her out of the corner of his eye, his expression still that solemn face he had when he first came out of the den. She shook her head, her claws digging further into the sand as she argued, "No, of course not. I was honored to be given a new apprentice, despite--"

"Despite what?" Rowanwolf asked, interrupting her. His single amber eye was now blazing, despite his quiet tone of voice. "Despite risking your life to protect your last apprentice, ensuring she lived long enough to get her warrior name? Making sure she didn't become scarred or crippled so young?"

She flinched at the word 'crippled' but fell silent, now staring down at her paws.

"There is no 'despite,' Lightwing," her deputy continued, calming. "You need to realize that, eventually."

"Yes... I-I know, I know that..." Lightwing sighed, shaking her head. "Thank you, for checking on me. But I will train Marshpaw." She looked up at him again, finding some of her usual pluck again. "I will train her into a fine warrior this Clan can be proud of, just like Hollyfrost became. And I will see her through to her warrior ceremony this time..."

And, maybe... if time is on our side... Tigerkit, too, could become my student, Lightwing silently added, feeling a glow of fondness for the large tabby kit. It had been a long time since she had felt some of her loneliness melt away.

Seeing Rowanwolf give her a satisfied little smile, she realized that perhaps her loneliness was foolish. Standing before her was another cat who took the time to check on her, and chances were that he was sent by Leopardfire... her Clanmates were all around her, if she only let them in.

Sitting straighter, Lightwing nodded to her deputy. "Thank you for your concern. Please, go get some rest while you can. Dawn approaches... I will see you at sunrise for my patrol assignment."

Rowanwolf dipped his head in acknowledgement, then rose to his paws, quietly padding away. Her slipped back into the warriors' den, the tip of his reddish tail vanishing in the shadows.

Lightwing watched him go, then tilted her head back to gaze up at the stars once more. She closed her eyes, letting out a breath.

I will get past this. One day, I will be given the chance to face my fears...

And I will take it.